Sometimes you lie awake in bed at night. Thinking.
About life.
About the future.
About meatballs and bourbon and secret doors.
Turns out, those all have something in common...
And it’s CousCous, a laid-back new Tunisian spot with just enough mint meatballs and random secret doors to warrant further investigation (and maybe a third date), hoping to open early next week near Piedmont Park.
This place looks like the weather feels right now. It’s got that long turquoise ceiling with white fans scattered all over it, paintings of clear ocean water behind the bar and giant windows that let the sunlight in. A real 77-degrees-and-gorgeous kind of room.
Don’t plan anything. Just swing by with whoever you happen to be at Piedmont Park with at the time. Make sure they don’t mind splitting plates of North African lamb sausage and grilled shrimp skewers on a cushiony banquette that could be from a Moroccan palace. There. Now signal for a round of El Jem Lemonades (bourbon, orange liqueur, Sprite) and smile at each other while you wait.
Or better yet, go investigate that giant door painted on the back wall. The one with the non-painted handle on it. The one that slides open to reveal, well, a pretty empty room right now. But someday soon, you’ll be having a semi-clandestine dinner behind it.
That or a really elaborate glass of tea.
About life.
About the future.
About meatballs and bourbon and secret doors.
Turns out, those all have something in common...
And it’s CousCous, a laid-back new Tunisian spot with just enough mint meatballs and random secret doors to warrant further investigation (and maybe a third date), hoping to open early next week near Piedmont Park.
This place looks like the weather feels right now. It’s got that long turquoise ceiling with white fans scattered all over it, paintings of clear ocean water behind the bar and giant windows that let the sunlight in. A real 77-degrees-and-gorgeous kind of room.
Don’t plan anything. Just swing by with whoever you happen to be at Piedmont Park with at the time. Make sure they don’t mind splitting plates of North African lamb sausage and grilled shrimp skewers on a cushiony banquette that could be from a Moroccan palace. There. Now signal for a round of El Jem Lemonades (bourbon, orange liqueur, Sprite) and smile at each other while you wait.
Or better yet, go investigate that giant door painted on the back wall. The one with the non-painted handle on it. The one that slides open to reveal, well, a pretty empty room right now. But someday soon, you’ll be having a semi-clandestine dinner behind it.
That or a really elaborate glass of tea.
